


The Tentacle Debacle

by Zaxal



Category: The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: Alien Biology, Aphrodisiacs, Developing Relationship, Dubious Consent, M/M, Porn With Plot, Tentacles, eventual full consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2017-12-18 02:10:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaxal/pseuds/Zaxal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard accidentally awakens a long-ignored and forgotten aspect of Sheldon's body, and they are so happy to meet him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He was starting to drift off, drawing equations in his head as the occasional sheep bounced through, _baa_ 'd, and rewrote something his exhausted mind had clearly overlooked. The sheep had become a welcome addition to the bedtime routine. They weren't always correct, and their appearances seemed to wax and wane with the cycles of his mood, but a little whimsy could be appreciated in its proper place, and just before sleep? Ideal to get whatever rebellious, nonsensical stirrings out before he took to the more serious world he needed the next day.

Sheldon would have been content with that, the routine, the sheep, the comfortable drifting off, but then he heard the noise. Slowly, his eyes opened, staring up at the ceiling and counting slowly to ten over the faint, muffled noises of what was undeniably pornography. Either that or Leonard had breached several different parts of the Roommate Agreement. Whichever it was, his life was going to become more difficult than necessary.

He had no idea how Leonard seemed to constantly forget how thin the walls of the apartment were. His roommate, while not up to Sheldon's IQ level, was technically a genius, and he had passed all of Sheldon's tests over the years with at least a C- (anything less, and he wouldn't be Sheldon's roommate any longer, of course). Yet, they had this significant disparity in what they considered to be courteous behavior to the other.

Sheldon kept whatever unsavory habits he had out of Leonard's realm of concern.

Leonard, on the other hand, seemed to be perfectly content if not undeniably pleased by the idea that Sheldon would not only be aware every time he engaged in self-abuse or had, temporarily, found someone to indulge him in sexual relations. Sheldon tried to ignore the brief spurts of Japanese and the occasional high-pitched cry for as long as possible. He really did. When he did pipe up, it was because he had completely given up on Leonard finishing this at any sort of reasonable pace. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

No response, verbal or otherwise. The sound remained loud enough to be heard, perhaps louder – my, wasn't someone feeling irritating tonight – and Leonard himself was silent.

It was inevitable that he'd end up at Leonard's door, knock-knock-knocking the way he always did, voice forced into an even, if slightly agitated, cadence. "Leonard. Leonard. Leonard."

At first there was no response. So he got louder, more insistent, and when he _did_ hear Leonard speak, he could have sworn up, down, and sideways that he said "Come in" which hadn't been Sheldon's ideal situation, but perhaps Leonard was willing to be reasonable about this. He swung the door open, and time seemed to still.

The first bit was obvious, his roommate with his hand making – then stilling – rapid movements over his cock, turning wide eyes to Sheldon and repeating, slightly horrified as if his mind hadn't quite caught up with the rest of him, " _Don't_ come in."

The second had Sheldon staring. On his laptop screen, a petite anime girl was strung up by multiple tubes, one thrusting into her mouth before the view switched to her nether regions where more of them were beating a rhythm into her, making her cry out as wet noises resounded in his ears.

"Oh my god, Sheldon, get out."

Sheldon would have argued, would have pissily pointed out that if the volume on Leonard's laptop had been slightly lower then there might not have been any mishearing on his part in the first place, but he couldn't seem to catch up over a surge of heat flushing through his system, a long-ignored part of him stirring in excitement before his own mind caught up and forced the rest of his biology to heel.

He didn't have the air to apologize – not to mention it was mostly Leonard's fault anyway – and he all but slammed the door before retreating down the hall.

There were no peaceful almost-dreams, no cute sheep telling him that gravity wasn't a thing he needed to worry about. No quietly drifting off.

Sheldon tried to banish the thoughts from his mind, to push the sudden, heavy heat of lust and want away from him, but he couldn't. His anatomy began to thicken against his will, aching until he couldn't bear it any longer. He turned his head to stare at the clock by his bedside. 1:14 AM.

Leonard's room was silent.

Sheldon pushed his blankets off and padded quietly to the door, having reached a decision before he even turned the knob. This time, he didn't knock as he entered, just closed Leonard's door gently behind him and looked down at his roommate, curled up protectively in his sleep, oblivious – wasn't he always – to Sheldon nearby.

"Leonard," he said, firmly but quiet, crossing his arms and slowly, with his voice alone, pulled his roommate out of his sleep.

\-----

"Leonard." Sheldon? No, that couldn't be right. His mind, in its sleep-induced haze, was creating an aural hallucination. Usually it was his mother's voice, saying his name in that reproving way that meant he'd fallen asleep while she was attempting to extract relevant psychological or psychosocial information from him, but tonight, the tables had turned, favoring Sheldon instead. He could barely remember why as he batted the thought away, buried his head in his pillow, and tried to sink back into the sensation of sleep.

"Leonard," Sheldon's voice again though it sounded different. Closer, yes, clearly, but also gentler, smooth and soft like the sheets Leonard was wrapped in. Clearly not Sheldon as Sheldon wasn't capable of being any of those things.

He slowly uncurled and rolled over on his back, blinking through the blurs of extreme near-sightedness and the unforgiving shadows of the dark room. There was undeniably someone in his room, and judging by the voice, it had to be Sheldon. He fumbled with the nightstand to find his glasses and turn on the nearby lamp, a soft, yellow light flooding the room, revealing his roommate standing next to his bed, hands curled into weak fists at his sides.

"Hey. Didn't hear you knock." He struggled to sit up, hands pushing at the mattress until he could peer properly up at Sheldon. Once his eyes managed to adjust to the light, he couldn't help but notice that there was something... off about his roommate. Sheldon expression didn't sit right with him. Lacking condescension or smugness, the slight upward twitch of his lips looked downright unnatural. There was something else, a certain darkness in his eyes, something Leonard didn't have a word for, not when it came to his best friend. "Sheldon?"

Sheldon took a deep breath, his hands shaking as he stepped closer to the bed. "Sheldon," Leonard repeated, shifting beneath his covers, wondering if perhaps Sheldon had finally, somehow, lost it.

"Leonard," he said, friendly, casual, as if he hadn't come into Leonard's room without having first asked permission. Something in him cringed, but he was too exhausted and too almost-asleep to remember why. Sheldon continued his approach, stopping less than a step close to the bed.

A thought occurred to him, and Leonard had to ask. "Am I awake?"

Sheldon considered for a moment, head tilted and lips pursed slightly. "Part of dreaming is not knowing if you're awake or asleep."

Leonard relaxed, "So I am asleep."

Sheldon's lips shifted into an amused smile, "Do you often dream about me?"

He smiled himself, wide and welcoming, "As part of my subconscious, shouldn't you know that?"

For a moment, his expression faltered, and before Leonard could catch it, analyze it, Sheldon's hands were reaching out, hands cupping his face, fingers light, tentative, as if he were afraid of waking Leonard with his touch. Leonard scooted to the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off. "I should," he said, agreeable as if this weren't the oddest thing he'd ever done by far. "Were I part of subconscious." Continuing his thought, he murmured, voice lower, "Unless, of course, you preferred me to be oblivious, or if you yourself could not cope with the reasons I might manifest in your dreamscape."

"And what reasons might those be?" Leonard asked, unable to keep himself from leaning into Sheldon's touch. His hands slid slowly up the sides of his face, raked into his hair, pulled him back, firmly leading, and Leonard was helpless to do anything but obey.

"Perhaps I have become a symbol of some burden or stress that you do not wish to explore or acknowledge." His smile tilted up as he stepped close, and Leonard spread his legs, allowed Sheldon to stand between them. "Or it could be that I am somehow a source of emotional or psychological discomfort and by keeping me separated from the rest of your thoughts, desires, and drives, you seek to find some form of reprieve."

"Sheldon," he said, swallowing thickly, his throat bared as Sheldon pulled his head up, unable to ignore the stirrings of heat and arousal inside of him. "Not that this conversation isn't, um, entertaining. But what's going on here?"

One hand knotted tighter in his hair, holding him still while the other fell to his waist, thumb sliding under the waistband of his pajama pants. "I need your help." There was a strained note in his voice.

This was more familiar territory. At least, as far as his dreams went. "Yeah?" He grinned widely, breath hitching, having full confidence that he knew where this was going. "And how can I help the great Dr. Cooper?" Sheldon paused, eyes narrowed, and Leonard's expression softened, "Show me."

Sheldon took a shaky breath, and Leonard watched as he slowly pushed his pajama bottom and underwear down, revealing his hips and the flushed length of his cock, hard and churning. Leonard blinked at it, confused, because, to the best of his knowledge, no dick should ever be described as churning, like individual muscles flexing in sporadic waves. The hand in his hair held him steady but it couldn't do anything to keep his gaze pinned on the sickening display in front of him. No, that was entirely his own doing, his subconscious forcing his eyes to stay honed in on the revolting wrongness that made his stomach turn.

Sheldon's penis opened.

Like a flower blooming, individual folds of flesh pulled away from the central construct, each 'petal' taking on a life of its own, wriggling free, for a moment pale before they took on the same flushed appearance of his cock, thickening and lengthening before his eyes. "Um," he said, wanting to get a look at Sheldon's face, but he was suddenly afraid of looking away, what it might do.

It turned out that the closest one hovering in front of his face wasn't the one that he needed to keep an eye on. A warm length of skin slid up his boxer shorts. It was slick, secreting something that he couldn't think well enough to analyze as it curled around his own erection, looping again and again around the length of him, tight and firm and incredible until it _moved_ , each loop sliding up and down, twisting, the slime slicking the way. Leonard arched his back, mouth hanging open as a breath shuddered in his chest.

The tentacle closest to his face took the chance, plunging into his mouth. The slime was like nothing else, smooth and thick and tasting oddly sweet like a type of candy he'd never tried before. His instinct was to jerk back, pull himself away as the tentacle fucked gently into his mouth, but Sheldon's hand held him, and Leonard's eyes darted upwards, wondering which fantasy would make an appearance today – bored or uninterested or controlling – but Sheldon's eyes were closed, his shoulders hunched as he breathed heavily, eyebrows knit in concentration. Slowly, he removed his hand, both of them sliding down to grip Leonard's legs.

He made a noise in the back of his throat and reached up to pull the tentacle from his mouth. Two snapped to his wrists, grips tight and unyielding as they pulled him farther up on the bed. Leonard struggled against their hold, wriggling away when more approached him only to gasp as the tentacle around his dick let go, curling from his leg and up through his waistband before pulling his underwear off and flinging them away. His eyes went wide as he struggled, but then he felt the unmistakable sensation of a tongue flicking up the bottom of his cock, circling the head before he was enveloped by wet, warm heat.

Leonard's head lolled back, his eyes closing, held up only by the tentacle in his mouth. He continued to tug against the hold on him, but the tentacles didn't seem to mind. Several wrapped around his thighs and forced them apart, the movement hauling his lower half off the bed, jostling the mouth teasing him and allowing him to feel as more of the tentacles slid onto his skin, curling around his arms and legs, securing him as even more took to roving over him, feeling him.

Leonard arched towards the mouth teasing him, making a helpless, desperate noise as the tongue probed at the slit of his cock, hips bucking at the stimulation. He whimpered as a thin tentacle wrapped around the base of his straining erection, pushing back the early release that threatened to overtake him. It also held him quite still as his legs were forced open, and Leonard's eyes flew open wide as a thick, long tentacle buried itself inside of him, wriggling, fucking itself deeper and deeper inside of him until Leonard thought he might pass out from the intensity of it.

The tentacle in his mouth was kind enough to pull back as he gasped for air, gasped again with a sharp cry as the other undulated, pressing deliberately against his prostate in waves, sending shocks of pleasure racing up his spine, making him jolt in the grip the tentacles had on him. Then, as one, the one at his mouth and the one inside him pushed in. Leonard attempted to thrash, but the tentacles had too good of a grip on him, and it wasn't long before the stimulation – being fucked at both ends and the relentless lapping of Sheldon's tongue – made him give in, body moving with the instruments of his torment instead of against them. His reward made him jump, eyes flying open again, wide, panicked, as he looked down.

Sheldon was standing up, his hands curled on Leonard's legs as a mass of tentacles swarmed around him. One had completely engulfed the head of his dick, and when Leonard made a questioning noise, it pulled away, a string of saliva or slime or precome connecting the two before the tongue-like apparatus flicked out again and pulled him once more into its mouth.

At the same time, the tentacles inside him thrust harder and the one explorer latched onto a nipple, tongue rolling hard against it, suckling it to a peak and relentlessly stimulating him as the one sucking his dick did the same. Leonard bucked and made a pitiful, pleading noise, muffled as the one tentacle fucked his mouth, his lips and jaw already sore from the abuse.

He writhed up and away as he felt something else at his already stretched hole, trying to escape until the tentacles pulled him down and spread him again, allowing him to feel the tongue lapping at the stretched muscle, spreading warm wetness, slipping inside, and he couldn't, he couldn't, and he was absolutely sure of that up until the moment the smaller tentacle that had been prepping him pushed in alongside the larger tentacle. It slid so easily in, finding his prostate, curling into a shape that pressed firmly against it every time the larger tentacle thrust into him.

Leonard's breathing quickened, and he thrashed in their grip, needing to come, god, desperately needing it, but his dick twitched against the various holds on it, and Leonard felt the tentacle's tongue swipe away what little ejaculate had managed to escape. His breathing shuddered in his chest as he arched, his body a tense curve before he shuddered back down, lax in their grip. He stopped fighting.

To reward him, the tentacles curled tighter around him, the one licking his nipple curling around the contour of his chest, squeezing as it sucked at him, in perfect time with the other currently attached to his cock. It became harder to breathe, dizzy as he was from arousal and the tentacle that continued to explore his mouth, spreading more of that slime inside of him.

The larger tentacle inside him curled and fucked him harder, harder, until Leonard was thrashing again, on the edge of release, the very last thing he thought he'd be able to stand until he reached for the sensation, for the inevitability, only to have it taken away, pulled out of his reach. He felt a small tentacle wrap around his throat, squeezing as its friend buried itself in his mouth, leaving no room to gag while the tentacles inside of him continued to fuck him hard, hitting his prostate. He felt so fucking full, so fucking good, and yet tortured as the tentacle's mouth pulled off his cock, and brushed the underside of him instead, torturing the underside of his dick with light, gentle licks until Leonard was trying to scream with what was left of his air, his eyes flying open wide only to see the black at the edges of his vision slowly swallow the world around him. He blinked rapidly, tears falling down his temples, another thing that felt so goddamn hot, like he was burning up from the inside out, a fever that consumed him.

The feeling of a hand landing on his thigh was almost enough to send him over the edge, his peak so close but he couldn't reach. Sheldon's fingers gnarled against his skin, his own breathing sounding like a faint echo in comparison to Leonard's heavy panting, the blood rushing, pounding in his ears as his body throbbed, the tentacles pounding faster, harder.

He felt them tense, and the first came in his mouth, release flooding over his tongue, heat curling in his stomach, the sweet, heady taste on his tongue. Once it was done, the tentacle pulled away from his mouth, leaving it hanging open, every noise of tortured pleasure heaving out of his chest. "Pl-please, oh god, please, please. Please let me come. I- I need it so- so bad, oh fuck," he threw his head back again, groaning as the tentacles inside of him tensed, for a moment firm and perfect as they fucked him before he could feel them release, felt streaks of it fall on his skin, each one releasing onto his trembling, quivering body. Leonard bit his lip as the tentacles slowly pulled out of him, leaving him leaking and empty and unsatisfied.

"Please. Please, Sh- Sheldon," he begged, not knowing if it would still be Sheldon at his feet or some Lovecraftian horror, and he could live with either, really, so long as he was allowed to come, the constricting tentacle loosening up even the slightest. "Sheldon. Sheldon, oh god, I, please, please," he babbled, his hands curled into fists as he bucked, humping the empty air as best he could, so fucking desperate and beyond anything, bereft of any meaningful touch in this lingering frustration. "Oh god," he whimpered, blinking a fresh wave of tears out of his eyes, feeling them roll down his cheeks as the tentacle wrapped tightly around his cock slid up, cocooning it in its slimy tendril before the base ring loosened and the tentacle moved, stroking him as hard as it was capable of as another lazily licked at his hole.

One stimulating touch of a tentacle-tongue to the slit of his dick, and Leonard was sobbing, "Thank you, thank you, oh god, oh- fuck, fuck, Sheldon," as he came, so strung out that he came down from it seconds after his orgasm hit him, exhaustion setting in instantly. Covered, filthy, he blinked his eyes open to see Sheldon in the faint glow of his lamp. No sign of tentacles, looking as unruffled as when Leonard had just woken up.

Leonard blinked and it seemed as if hours had passed, Sheldon running a warm rag over his abused body and then, after another blink, Sheldon was helping coax him back into his boxers. The next time he tried to blink, he fell into his exhaustion and the comforting blackness of a well-earned sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

He rolled out of bed way too late, his hands scrabbling at the twisted sheets and blankets as he stumbled to his feet, his body reluctant to move, to stand. Everything was so loose, and Leonard groaned, remembering the wet dream he'd had about Sheldon the night before. It went beyond a simple masturbatory fantasy, delving into the darkest depths of his psyche.

New rule starting right now: no tentacle hentai before bed.

And then he remembered the worst of it – that Sheldon had actually _walked in_ on him jerking off, had stood there in horror, _watching_ until Leonard told him to beat it – no, not that – told him to get out. And now he was going to walk into the main room, and Sheldon was going to be there. The same Sheldon he'd dreamed of waking up to last night and the things that had happened and Leonard was seriously considering bashing his head against the wall.

He took several deep breaths and refrained. It would make a lot of noise which Sheldon would hear and then undoubtedly ask him about. Plus, it took a lot more energy and coordination than he currently possessed as he stumbled to the dresser to grab his clothes, exhausted in an unpleasant way he didn't want to examine too closely.

It was bad enough that he could feel the spot in his underwear from where he must've come in his sleep.

By the time he emerged from his shower, opting to skip breakfast because he doubted he'd be able to keep it down, he wasn't feeling any more prepared to face Sheldon. "Good morning, Leonard."

He flinched. It was almost like a hangover how Sheldon's voice pierced into his brain, drilling deeper and deeper with a certainty that said there was nothing good coming out of this morning or the choices he'd made leading up to it. Unconscious though some of those choices might have been. "Good morning, Sheldon."

Leonard reluctantly brought his eyes up to see his roommate sitting tamely in his spot, his bag already looped over his shoulder, waiting to leave for work. Leonard waited for him to say something about the deviation from routine, how unhealthy skipping breakfast was, but Sheldon defied the odds and began talking about the bogus chain mail sent by a well-meaning relative even after Sheldon had told his mother explicitly that his work email was for work only.

"Apparently," he said with some worrisome enthusiasm, picking himself up off the couch and following on Leonard's heels to the door, "God will 'look the other way' in my affairs because I chose not to burden my entire contact list with size 34 Comic Sans in various eye-straining colors clumsily imparting the, if you dare call it, 'knowledge' that a communal imaginary friend wants them to love everyone except Muslims and homosexuals."

Leonard considered, the words tumbling over in his head as he locked the apartment door behind them. "Isn't God looking the other way kind of a perk instead of a punishment?"

"Oh no," Sheldon assured him. "You want God watching you at all times. Or else the Devil will pounce and rip at everything you hold dear until life is a meaningless void."

"Huh," Leonard rubbed his temple with the heel of his hand, hoping it would soothe the oncoming headache away. "Learn something new every day."

"You can hardly call it learning," Sheldon grumped as they started walking down the stairs.

"It's a cultural evaluation."

Sheldon gave a breathy laugh, condescension inevitable. "Implying sociology is a valid science or at all worthy of note." Leonard turned to aim a look at him, which only made Sheldon smirk in return, having won their little back and forth.

After a small nervous flip, Leonard's stomach settled, and he thought maybe everything would be fine.

\-----

Nothing was fine. It was the opposite of fine, with red flashing lights and alarm sounds and thinking about it only made the panic worse. No one could ever know. Last night had been an accident, an impulse he should have shunned and ignored as he had for longer than he had ever known Leonard.

No one could ever know because if they did, they'd want to get their hands on him. They'd want to take him apart, find their origin, how to replicate them or prevent them. Would the tentacles still be there if they removed his penis? Would they grow back if they were sliced off, or would it be more like a worm; would something also begin to grow on the severed end? He'd be locked away, studied, interrogated, ripped apart.

It was causing a legitimate panic, and he was glad that he was alone in his office, barely resisting the urge to push the desk in front of it, to lock himself away out of fear that some spy drone or secret government bug had seen what he truly was.

And _they_ weren't helping. They were awake now, a state that Sheldon had been keeping them away from, hoping endlessly that with enough neglect they might finally stop existing, and he would wake up one morning to discover that there wasn't a 'they' on his body. They existed; an impulse and drive foreign from his own, a literal second brain as far as Sheldon could tell though he had never fully explored that and had no intention to.

They were awake, and they wanted out. Wanted to feel the textures of the world, wanted to touch and lick – he didn't ever question the tongues or how they fit into things; it was one of the few things he was entirely ignorant of and he never personally wanted that to change. They wanted to revisit Leonard, coil around a willing body, seeking warmth, stimulation, release.

"No," he gritted out, shoving his hand down to his crotch, stilling all attempted movements with a very precise motion of his hand. "Stop it. Stop it right now."

How was he to puzzle the mysteries the universe had left to offer when his mutant, freakish _tentacles_ were driving him out of his head?

Slowly, the unrest inside him settled, and Sheldon let up on the pressure, removing his hand to set it on the arm of the chair, waiting warily for the uprising. But it didn't happen. There wasn't a sudden outburst of tentacles, reaching, grabbing. No, instead it felt relatively... normal. As 'normal' as he'd ever felt at any rate.

He pushed himself out of his chair and went back to puzzling his whiteboards, a feeling of dread sitting heavy in his stomach as if he knew this couldn't possibly be the end of the issue.

He wasn't wrong.

His stomach lurched when he saw Leonard at lunch, his mind calling up memories Sheldon wished they'd leave alone, of Leonard entwined in their grips, taking everything so willingly, pliant and easy. It was only through sheer force of will that he remained in control, looking disinterestedly anywhere but at his best friend.

This needed to stop. He considered asking Amy about a sedative but the idea of puncturing his penis or his tentacles with a needle to localize the effects made him nauseous. Besides, Amy would want to know what it was for, and 'an elaborate prank' wouldn't be enough for her to hand over the goods. He thought about showing her and visibly shuddered. Amy was a good scientist – he wanted her nowhere near his tentacles.

In fact, he wanted no one near them. He didn't really want them to exist, but that sort of helpless wishful thinking wasn't going to turn him into a normal human being. It wasn't going to make the ride home from work any less agonizing. Thoughts that weren't his own rose to the surface, images of Leonard with a tentacle wrapped around his throat, his lips swollen from abuse. The roll of his hips as he thrust himself back on the tentacles fucking him. Sheldon drew a shaky breath, staring out the window. He began counting by sevens at a rapid pace, needing anything, even the most menial chore, to keep him out of his head. Or to keep them out of his head. They lulled at the lack of stimulation before settling restlessly, waiting, he knew, for the opportunity to attempt to overwhelm him again.

It happened like the sudden swell of a storm, a build of pressure that wound the tension inside him higher and higher until he was waiting for it to break, for the lightning to strike and thunder to roll. He took a shaky breath and was suddenly aware of everything, the feel of his clothes against his skin and the particular texture of the couch under his hand as his fingers curled, one at a time, into a fist against the arm. Everything around him seemed sharper, brighter, details screaming at him, and his thin control over his impulses wavered.

He had thought, when Leonard announced that Penny would be stealing some of their food this evening, that she would be a welcome distraction for them both. Leonard wouldn't have time to think or ask about the previous evening, and Sheldon could rely on Leonard's incessant need to chase the opportunity for heterosexual relations to keep the focus off of him. It would give him time to regain the upper hand, to be in control again.

What he hadn't accounted for was his own reaction to Leonard's flirting, his wide smile at every inane thing Penny said, the way his focus honed in on her and his expression softened. How he looked _interested_ when he could barely spare any of that attention for Sheldon himself. Sheldon could talk with him about his interests, about sci-fi, fantasy, physics, but no. Instead he listened to her prattle on about failed auditions, demanding customers at her job, and about her family's current ordeal with her druggie brother, and Leonard looked as if he were listening to Gene Roddenberry talk about the inception of Star Trek.

Sheldon made a low, unhappy noise in the back of his throat, eyes narrowed. Spitefully, he thought about the way Leonard looked the previous evening, with Sheldon's tentacles exploring his body, coiled around him, holding him tightly, fucking him. The way he'd begged for orgasm, begged _him_.

"Iiiis he trying to blow your head up again?"

Sheldon blinked and realized he'd been glaring at Leonard for the past several minutes as if that alone would remedy the situation where Leonard was giving Penny his undivided attention instead of the person who rightfully deserved it. "No, I don't think so." Leonard had turned in his chair, his head propped up with his hand as he observed Sheldon with a smirk. "He puts his fingers to his temples when he's trying to do that." Noticing that Sheldon was finally paying attention, Leonard's smirk widened, "You all right over there, buddy?"

Sheldon huffed angrily, but he felt the stirring again, the impulse to lunge towards him, to have him writhing and begging for him. To rip his clothes off of him and shove a tentacle down his throat and another up inside him. Sheldon's breathing began to come in short, shallow bursts, the room feeling too warm, his skin too tight. "Excuse me," he said in a low, venomous voice before he grabbed his takeout container and retreated to his room.

He closed the door and bit down on his lower lip as his control finally gave way. Angry tentacles tore through the fly of his pants, wriggling and ripping through the seam of his crotch as Sheldon collapsed, weak-kneed, against the door. Tentacles lunged up to encircle his wrists, pulling their arms up, and he almost dropped the takeout container if not for another tentacle deftly grabbing it and setting it on the floor.

Sheldon was used to this kind of misbehavior. It never went farther than immobilization, than reminding him that he was powerless if they put their mind to it. The bulk of it had been during puberty, his demanding, growing body desperately tearing through the first sparks of sexual arousal.

He hadn't dealt with this in years, and rarely outside of the safety and comfort of his bed where he could pretend it was a reoccurring nightmare without having to consider the very real situation that they were sentient and dangerous.

He knew what they wanted, could feel the recalled sensations being forced into his mind. The warmth of a willing body, tight but inviting, so responsive to their touch. Sheldon closed his eyes, trying to think unappealing thoughts – Howard's mother, Beverly's dry lips pressed against his own, Kripke and Leslie Winkle. The tentacles tightened their grips and shoved his body harshly back against the door.

Sheldon hissed in pain, some part of him surrendering so nicely that they pulled away and coiled tightly together leaving one tentacle at the end that shifted its appearance until even the most discerning eye wouldn't have been able to tell it apart from normal genitalia.

He pulled himself together and picked up the tattered remains of his underwear and khakis, piling them all into a grocery bag hidden under his bed to be taken to the dumpster and disposed of as soon as possible. He cleaned himself up with some wet wipes, sneering at the slime before grabbing a spare pair of clothes and changing, hoping that Leonard would leave him alone so he wouldn't be asked about them or, the more likely option, that his roommate wouldn't even notice should their paths cross again.

Luckily, the only interaction they had was Leonard stopping by his door before bed to tell him goodnight before heading to his room.

Sheldon had a fitful night of sleep, but he slept. The next day was even more restless, more irritating, but the tentacles behaved. And the day after, he thought it might actually be all right. It would be something they never spoke of, a silent secret that perhaps Leonard might even, hopefully for both of their sakes, forget.

But the night after, he stumbled to his feet in the middle of the night, throwing off his blankets in a fit, the memories of the night of indiscretion blasting through his mind. The relentless reminders flooded him with sights, sensations, the sounds Leonard had made before he broke and _begged_.

Sheldon had to. It wasn't nice, it wasn't right, and if his mother had known about it, she'd have hauled him to the prayer room of their local church to make him sit in front of prayer lists and a crucifix to think of others for hours on end with no reprieve until the tension drained from his shoulders. But his mother wasn't here, and Sheldon wasn't so selfless that he could continue driving himself mad, past distraction and into exhaustion without attempting to find an alternative.

This time, he knocked. He knocked, and when Leonard mumbled a sleepy 'what', he said quietly, "Leonard."

"What do you want, Sheldon?"

"You," was the most succinct answer he could come up with. There was a brief silence, and Sheldon turned the knob, admitting himself into Leonard's darkened room to find his roommate sitting up in bed, staring at him without his glasses on.

"Come on, this isn't funny."

"Oh, I never said it was."

He could tell from his roommates hooded eyes, from the uncertain way he swayed, that he wasn't sure if Sheldon were another construct from his often turbulent dreams or if he were real. Seeming as if he'd made up his mind, Leonard held out a hand. "Well, come here."

"You understand?" Sheldon asked as he approached tentatively, not wanting to repeat his mistakes but desperately needing the relief.

"Mm," Leonard agreed with a lazy smile, encouraging him to the bed and then grabbing his hand, pulling him up onto the blankets. "Yeah, sure."

Sheldon felt something like a smile tighten the corners of his eyes, his lips trembling. "Leonard," but then Leonard tried to lean forward and kiss him. Sheldon ducked his head, breathing against Leonard's neck. "This is important."

"You don't say," Leonard murmured back, his hands skating down Sheldon's body and pulling him up by his hips, one hand closing tightly around the distended bulge of Sheldon's pajamas. Sheldon gasped, trying to will it to stop, but the tentacle wasn't listening. See? Leonard liked them. He did, he wanted them.

Leonard's breathing hitched as the singular tentacle lost its rigid form, wriggling and splitting to writhe out of Sheldon's clothes and twine around his wrist and up his arm. He made a quiet, undefinable noise, and Sheldon pressed closer, saying "Leonard" quietly, as much a question as it was a reassurance.

Leonard moaned hesitantly, pushing his hips up, but before Sheldon could do more than gasp at the feel of Leonard hard in his boxers, the tentacles were acting, ripping the button off the boxers and slipping inside, enveloping his dick and coiling around his thighs as more snaked up his body, running their tongues over his belly and up his chest, pushing his undershirt up to tease his nipples while another arched over his shirt and plunged into Leonard's mouth as he opened it in a gasp.

Sheldon clenched his jaw at the feeling of Leonard going tense beneath him, struggling for a moment against the hold on him, trying to breathe and get rid of the thing in his mouth without any luck. Not long after, the tension seeped away, leaving Leonard lax, bucking lazily and moaning his approval as the tentacles redoubled their efforts to make him feel.

Sheldon could feel the moment a tentacle pushed into him, tight and hot, and Leonard shuddered, arching up, into Sheldon. His breathing caught in his throat, and he pulled himself away, crawling back until he was sitting at Leonard's feet, distant from the action though it made very little difference to his tentacles which only extended further to continue tormenting Leonard. Who made a sound that was almost akin to disappointment, a high whine in his throat before the tentacle inside him sped its tempo, thrusting harder and faster into him until Leonard was thrashing, not to get away but seeking more of the pleasure.

They were undeniably pleased, but they were also too busy to do more than send the equivalent of a 'we told you so' through Sheldon's system. He snapped his eyes back to Leonard to glare at them, having looked away to try and give Leonard some measure of privacy. His eyes landed on Leonard's face, his eyes closed, mouth stretched around the tentacle thrusting into it, another of them coiled in several loose loops around his neck.

Then his eyes fell to where Leonard's erection poked out of his boxers, freed by the tentacles which were lavishing licks upon it and occasionally darting up to tease the slit and lick the precome gathering on the tip. It was getting redder by the second, flushed and hard and desperate for friction that he was being denied.

Sheldon wanted to touch it. Almost. Wanted to see how Leonard would react to a proper grip, if he'd unravel so quickly even if Sheldon were clumsy and tentative in comparison to his eager genitals. Instead, his hand fell and landed on Leonard's ankle, and his breathing caught in his throat as Leonard stiffened, nudged his leg up, mindlessly seeking. Sheldon swallowed around the thick lump in his throat and moved his hand part of the way up Leonard's calf and back down, so reluctant to do more.

It wasn't needed. His bravery only drove the tentacles to faster, harder, one of them finally taking mercy to wrap around Leonard's cock and suck the tip down. Moments later, Leonard's body came off the bed, shaking from the tension as he screamed around the tentacle in his mouth and came.

Sheldon averted his eyes again, his breathing shaking as he felt a similar release of the tension in him, coming in waves until the tentacles were pulling back, sated and spent. He looked tentatively over at the mess that was his roommate, covered in slime and the tentacles' release, his breathing already slowing as his eyes drooped and he began to fall into a true sleep. Sheldon stood and went to fetch a warm, wet washcloth.

Cleaning up Leonard was the least he could do, all things considered.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Leonard gave no indication that the previous night had happened. He went through the motions, busied himself with making breakfast, then settled in his chair to eat. The weekend had never felt so confining, and Sheldon could only hope that they'd be satiated for the duration of these close quarters.

It was better, somehow, when they went to work, when there were more walls and rules and a life where he'd never allowed them to intrude. Professionalism was an easier distance to maintain than the casual interactions they shared at home.

He could only try to keep his guard up and hope for the best. He didn't know what would happen if that failed.

The answer, unfortunately, came faster than Sheldon had hoped for. They loomed beneath his skin, wanting, demanding as Leonard's thigh brushed his own, his hands clutching an Xbox controller as his fingers mashed the buttons. There was a peek of his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, eyes squinted to focus on the television.

With a swift uppercut and the execution of a move it had taken twenty minutes of practice for Leonard to memorize and learn to use under pressure, his character stood triumphant. Nearby, Raj whined, "Again?"

"Hand it over, let the master show you how it's done," Howard insisted.

"Bring it on," Leonard said with a wide smirk, eyes darting to Sheldon. Seeking something, and the only thing Sheldon could possibly give him was a small, uncertain smile in return.

By the time Howard and Raj left, the urge was unbearable. Leonard was unaware, practicing a new combo on a computer player, tapping away while comfortably settled next to Sheldon. Moving would mean stopping, and he was on a roll.

Sheldon swallowed dryly, closed his eyes, tried to will them away.

His will was never as strong as he needed it to be.

\-----

Leonard watched his character bounce around the screen, thoughts wholly preoccupied with the game, the possibility of showing off at some vague tournament, and impressing a girl with his honed skills. Maybe she'd be there with her boyfriend, or guy friends, one of the 'not like other girls' group, or maybe she'd be competing. Maybe she'd win... no. Leonard's fantasy quickly erased the thought. It wouldn't be impressive if she won; she wouldn't look at him twice if he got second. She'd be grateful that he didn't pull his punches, right? That he gave her a challenge. Maybe they'd meet up at an arcade later in the week where all those unsanitary hands had touched the consoles and where Sheldon most assuredly would not follow.

His imagination fluttered, and the brunette with a tongue piercing that he'd been imagining was suddenly quite a bit taller with broad shoulders, big hands holding the controller like he hadn't put one down since he got his first Nintendo. Still a tongue piercing, peeking out as he teased, the victory music blaring but not loud enough to drown out the rush of his own heartbeat, the way everyone cheered.

The guy probably had a cool gamertag, something casual that his friends called him as they congratulated him on his win. His blue eyes lingered on Leonard until he felt a flush crawl up his spine.

But still, it'd be rude not to congratulate him on the victory, wouldn't it?

Leonard's mouth suddenly felt very dry as he was brought back to the apartment, hands going through the motions to complete combos even as his mind wandered. Thought about excusing himself to the bathroom, biting into the sleeve of his hoodie while jacking himself at lightning speed to the thought of what might happen if they went out for celebratory drinks.

Something touched his side. He leaned away but it pressed closer, insistent, and it took Leonard precious moments to realize that it wasn't Sheldon's hand brushing his exposed side but something _slithering_ against his skin.

The logical part of his mind said to remain calm. Leonard couldn't hear it over the shrill shriek of, "SNAKE," that escaped him as he dropped his controller and scrambled off the couch. He scooted away, looking up at Sheldon whose eyes had widened though he hadn't moved.

"Is there a snake?" A beat of silence followed by Sheldon's face screwing up as though he was trying to remember something. "Sheldon," he hissed, "is there a snake?" When Sheldon failed to respond, Leonard asked, "Do I need to go get Penny?"

It wasn't above him. She killed the spiders that had the misfortune of being seen. She'd once chased a pigeon out of the apartment after it flew in from the hallway. Snakes hung out in cornfields, right?

"Sheldon! Just nod or something!"

Something in his stomach twisted uncertainly because Sheldon didn't seem afraid. If a snake had been on the cushion next to him or had slithered back into the couch from whence it came, he'd do more than blanch visibly and look like he was trying to pass a kidney stone.

Leonard leaned up curiously and screeched again when he saw, instead, a fleshy tendril writhing on the leather, reaching towards him. His breath started coming hard and fast, hands shaking as he scrambled back farther across the floor, off the rug and onto the hardwood, slamming into the door.

"Leonard," Sheldon said in a tone of voice that implied that he was being unreasonable.

Leonard ignored him and focused on the task at hand: waking up. Whatever dream this was, reoccurring or not, he didn't want it. This was how he felt during his worst nightmares, the moment before everything spiraled out of control, and he could already feel it slipping through his fingers.

He didn't dare close his eyes, afraid of having Sheldon pressed close to him when they opened, that thing soothing up his jaw before it coiled around his throat and cut off what little remained of his air.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up-"

"You are awake," Sheldon said miserably.

"Shut up, no I'm not, wake up," he mumbled and pinched himself, twisting the skin until he couldn't bear it, and he was left staring at his hand as it shook in the air.

He lunged for the door. Sheldon was on his feet in the blink of an eye, slamming it back into the frame and twisting the lock as Leonard grappled for the knob.

The fleshy thing wrapped around his wrist, pulled him closer.

"Stop that!" Sheldon scolded it, slapping it aside and getting slapped back in return.

Leonard made another desperate grab for the door.

"No, no, Leonard, you _can't_ -"

"Or what? You'll kill me?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Sheldon huffed.

"I'm ridiculous?" Leonard demanded, jerking his arm free and backing away. "What are you? Are you even Sheldon?"

Sheldon flinched, recoiled, hurt flaring in his expression as his tendril thrashed in the air. "I am," he insisted. "Of course I am."

" _Of course?_ " Leonard repeated, gesturing to the thing he couldn't begin to think about or he'd break on a level that couldn't be repaired. "How can you say 'of course I'm your roommate you've known for years' with that thing from some-" he stammered, feeling his face flush at the memory of his copious collection of hentai, "some horror movie just hanging out?"

"I've always had them," Sheldon said, voice straining with the stress.

" _Them_?" Leonard repeated, feeling horror rising in tandem with his overwhelming curiosity. "There's more?" Had to ask even though he was afraid he knew the answer: "What are they?"

"Tentacles," Sheldon confessed, looking away.

The tentacle took the chance his distraction offered to lunge for Leonard with all the agile speed of a snake striking. Sheldon's head shot up and he slammed it against the door. It writhed against his hand, leaving a trail of shiny goop on the door, on his fingers where they gripped it. "Stop!" Sheldon hissed at it. Leonard could see another tentacle sliding out from beneath Sheldon's shirts, grabbing his wrist and pulling it back in order to release its twin.

Leonard grabbed the only thing he could think of. The Longclaw's scabbard clattered to the ground, and he brought the replica blade up, mimicking the way he'd always posed with lightsabers and other swords when they took pictures of their cosplay costumes.

Sheldon's eyes widened, and both he and the tentacles stopped struggling. Leonard, unaccustomed to holding the power in any relationship for any amount of time, faltered. But he needed to know, needed to stop this before it spiraled any farther out of his grasp. "Why," he said with forced calm, "do you have tentacles?"

"I don't know," Sheldon said with an expression like the words soured in his mouth.

"I don't believe you," Leonard said pointedly, waggling the sword in his hands.

"Well that's your problem, then, isn't it?" Sheldon snipped, crossing his arms. The tentacles slowly sank back beneath his skin, vanishing as though they'd never existed. He hunched his shoulders but leaned towards the door, effectively keeping it blocked.

The words escaped him before he could stop them: "Did you attack me with them?"

Sheldon hunched further, his breath catching almost inaudibly in his throat. "I didn't mean to."

The floor fell out from under him, and Leonard's hands clutched the hilt so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Didn't mean to? What does that even mean in this context?"

"I thought you knew!" Sheldon's face was going pink high along his cheekbones. "I thought that surely you would realize what had happened, but you didn't, and it wasn't supposed to happen again or at all!"

Dryly, Leonard demanded, "Is that why the rest of them moved out, Sheldon? Were you assaulting them in their sleep?"

"No!" Sheldon almost yelled. He cringed at the sound of his own voice. "They were dormant for the longest time – I thought they'd gone to sleep, and I never imagined that they'd- that they'd drive me to-"

"Because you weren't complicit in it at all."

"You don't know them," Sheldon insisted, desperation setting into his voice. "You don't know what it's like, and neither did I. They haven't been this active in my entire life. It hurts to keep them away and under control."

"Well try harder," Leonard demanded, his own voice cracking from the worry and strain. "And you keep saying 'them' – if you've always had them, then why are you acting like they're not a part of you?"

"Because they aren't!" Leonard could hear and see the panic rising, the way the tension wound through Sheldon tense enough to make him snap. "I've always had them, but they're like a parasite," he said, shuddering, his arms going from being crossed to wrapping around himself, his body shaking with the nerves. "They're under my skin, everywhere, nowhere, waiting. I don't know where they came from or why. They attack me sometimes – I can't control them."

The tension in Leonard's shoulders unwound slightly, his guard dropping against his better judgement. "They attack you?"

Sheldon averted his eyes, pressing his lips together as he nodded. "Not in the same way." His body quaked more visibly. "Th-they rip my clothes, or immobilize me." Whatever remained of the words were clearly too hard for him to voice, his throat straining around noises, and though Leonard didn't drop the sword, he allowed his tone to become gentle.

"It's okay," he murmured.

"It's not okay!" Sheldon insisted, pressing his back to the wall and cringing when he felt the slime on his arm. "I'm practically a monster." Leonard hesitated because he couldn't deny it, couldn't come up with a way to make Sheldon feel better about this. "You can't tell anyone," Sheldon continued after a long moment of silence. "You can't, Leonard, they'll cart me off to a research lab and cut me up and perform experiments on me."

Leonard was going to insist that Sheldon ought to know better, but upon remembering the Joyce Kim affair, he closed his mouth. "I won't," he promised. "But, Sheldon – is this gonna happen again?" He allowed the tip of the sword to rest on the hardwood, his arms aching from holding it up for so long. "Was it about to happen there on the couch?"

Sheldon's expression was full of despair, sorrow. "I thought you liked it," he insisted weakly, "and that you wouldn't mind." Leonard's stomach turned, his hands shaking. "I don't know what I'm going to do," he breathed shakily to himself. "If they can't have what they want, they'll get rowdy. They'll attack people or me, they'll be seen." His eyes shone with worried tears, and Sheldon avoided blinking as though that would keep them from welling over and falling down his cheek.

"And they just want to have sex?" Almost added 'with me' skeptically to the end of his sentence, but he swallowed it down.

He nodded sadly, withdrawing further into himself even as his breath shuddered in his chest. "After all that time despising the thought, and my life hangs in the balance."

"I mean," Leonard pressed gently, "you knew this was coming, right? There had to have been-" Sheldon interrupted him by shaking his head. "What?"

"It's never appealed to me, and it's never been something that I desired. Coitus," he tested the word and flinched from it with a barely-concealed sneer.

"But you- you've definitely, um," Leonard babbled, trying to be as delicate as possible, "engaged in self abuse." It was the most polite way he could think of revealing that he'd heard Sheldon at regular intervals, panting and moaning through the thin walls of their home. "There had to be signs."

Sheldon shook his head. "They responded to the bodily maintenance, but it wasn't like this."

Leonard was baffled, and the question slipped out of him before he could stop it, "So you've never been horny before?"

Sheldon's eyes widened as they snapped to him, mouth twisting uncomfortably before he looked away again, eyes falling to the scabbard where it laid on the floor. "Maybe a few times," he confessed before reiterating, "but not like this."

Leonard still hesitated to put the sword away, but the tentacles were momentarily gone, leaving him alone with his best friend seeming lost, confused, scared. He'd have to be heartless not to respond to it even though terror still froze him down to his marrow. Swallowed thickly, took a breath before speaking, "You attacked me."

"I told you – I thought you were awake, or that you'd realize you weren't dreaming." He couldn't look up, shuddering anew. Leonard's grip on his resolve weakened. "I didn't want to. I didn't even realize one of them was touching you until you yelled. Would it have led to the same outcome? They would have tried. I don't know if I could have stopped them."

Leonard pointed out almost softly. "They stopped now."

Sheldon gave a miserable huff of a laugh. "For how long?" He finally moved away from the door though he still didn't raise his eyes.

Leonard could leave. There was nothing stopping him from it now. Possessions he could replace. And yet, even as he thought about it, about searching for a new apartment while sleeping on Raj's couch or crashing in a hotel for a few days, he moved to pick up the scabbard and slid the Longclaw back in. It took him a moment to get situated straight and perfect on its mount, the way it'd been before he'd grabbed it.

He took a step back to make sure it looked right, and then he turned around to face Sheldon. His hands were folded in his lap, eyes cautiously rising to peek at him though he made no further move to explain himself or make further excuses.

Maybe that's why he walked away from the door. Or maybe it was his own scientific curiosity and the years of sci-fi and fantasy stories he'd used to escape his dull, dreary reality. Maybe it was the secret desires he'd kept buried except in his most secret wet dreams that had seemingly come true twice in the last month.

Regardless of the cause, the effect was the same: he was absolutely, totally fucked. Maybe it'd even be the way he'd wanted to be for so long before giving up his crush on his roommate as a lost cause.

"You have to promise me that it won't happen like that again," Leonard said, hands clutched at his sides. "No sneaking around or surprises."

Sheldon's head shot up. "You can't be serious."

Leonard nodded stiffly. "I am. I don't want you to get in trouble." Fought the urge to bring his hands up, to fidget. "And I don't want anyone else to get hurt." Not that he could remember it hurting. In fact, from what he remembered, it had felt amazing. "Okay?" Leonard asked.

Sheldon nodded, echoed, "Okay," quietly.

He was still tense, worried, but Sheldon's assurance eased a bit of his fears. Maybe they'd resurface later, maybe they'd be insurmountable. There was only one way to find out.

He sat tentatively down on the far end of the couch from Sheldon's spot.

Couldn't think of a thing to say until it tumbled out of him, awkward and soft, "I don't think I scratched the floor." Sheldon said nothing but his eyes darted to it anyway. The fact that no admonishments followed, no warnings, no strikes worried him as much as it relieved him. Sheldon must be taking this seriously. Leonard needed him to. If he was going to risk this, if he was going to- to let them-

His breathing shook in his chest. It was daunting. There was a part of him that still struggled to accept this as reality, as something that was actually happening to the real him.

In the background, the battle music continued, upbeat and driving.

"Leonard," Sheldon choked on his name.

Leonard slowly drew his eyes to his best friend. Another tentacle was snaking out from beneath the bottom of Sheldon's shirts, weaving in midair, the end turned towards him almost as if it were watching.

He stammered slowly, "C-can I? May I?" He held his hand up, close but held back, uncertain of what this would become if he wasn't careful.

Sheldon nodded slowly, eyes intent upon Leonard's hand.

In the end, curiosity won out. His fingers slid against slick skin, heat rising in his cheeks when the texture felt familiar – like his own cock did when it slid through his hand. Except this moved, flexible and lithe, pressed against his fingers and palm shamelessly. Sheldon's eyes slammed closed, his eyebrows knitting together as his hands clutched the couch cushion he sat on.

The tentacle rubbed against his hand rather like a cat. It slid its head down to Leonard's wrist, lingering over his pulse point before dragging back.

The tip opened, a tongue tracing over his thumb, lapping up its own slick goop and tasting Leonard's skin. It closed around his captured appendage, suckling, tongue swirling with a sort of promise that made Leonard's pants feel tight.

He ought to be running, fighting, at least struggling to get away, but instead he allowed it to loop around his wrist and pull him closer, let it pull him practically into Sheldon's lap as more swarmed out to explore with light, almost tickling touches.

Sheldon kept his eyes closed, breathing in rough shudders. Leonard was forcibly reminded that this was a necessity, not something that Sheldon wanted nor something that he should either.

"I'm sorry, buddy," he murmured, trying to lean back and give Sheldon some room to breathe.

A tentacle nuzzled up his jaw and nudged into his mouth. If Sheldon gave a verbal response, Leonard wasn't in his right mind long enough to hear it.


End file.
